I'm Not Okay
by WithinHerHeart
Summary: "Well, Prowl." The therapist gave him a smooth, almost practised smile as if she had rehearsed it a thousand times before. "If you need help, you've come to the right girl." Transformers/Human AU, mainly ProwlxJazz with other side pairings.
1. Prologue

Title: I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

Rating: T-M

Pairing: Mainly ProwlxJazz, slight IronhidexRatchet and OptimusxBumblebee

Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: "Well, Prowl." The therapist gave him a smooth, almost practised smile as if she had rehearsed it a thousand times before. "If you need help, you've come to the right girl."

Notes: Human/Transformers AU. Nathaniel Prime is Optimus, and Stephanie Amerine is my OC, Exal.

The young woman gave a low, tired groan and winced as she stretched, hearing her back crack and pop. She slowly relaxed in her comfortable office chair, a lazy smile replacing the pained grimace. She was finally done. Her wrists ached, her head was pounding and she had been working overtime, but she had finished that damned pile of paperwork which had rapidly piled up on her. She was finished. Complete. The torment was officially over.

"Thank God for that." She murmured to herself triumphantly. The blonde rose, scooping the paper in her arms as she did. Her secretary had long gone home, and was probably dead to the entire world in her nice, comfortable bed with her husband. As almost everyone else in the city probably was, and the woman herself should have been. She hefted the work up, and attempted to cross the room without dropping anything. She dropped it on the tray across the room, not really caring if the paper ended up getting creased, and smiled. "See you in hell, work." With that, she turned, and grabbed her jacket which was unceremoniously dumped on the floor next to her bag. She shrugged it on, eager to leave and get home as soon as possible, before grabbing her bag. She snatched her mobile and purse off of her desk, and hurried over to the door.

_Hello, hello, baby you called,_

_I can't hear a thing._

_I have got no service in this club you see_.

She paused, listening intently to the familiar music, before sighing in disappointment. The phone vibrated in her hand, the screen luminous, demanding her attention. She growled, her eyes narrowed, and flipped the top of the phone up before pressing it to her ear.

"_This had better not be work." _She thought bitterly.

"Hello?" She forced her voice to sound sweet and cheerful, to disguise the scowl on her face. There was a slight pause over the phone before the caller spoke.

"….Stephanie?" The deep male voice sounded confused, and held a hint of apprehension and nervousness. Stephanie blinked for a split second, also confused, before realisation dawned.

"Nathan!" The blond smiled warmly, delighted. Her eyes glinted in joy, surprise and recognition as a now relieved sounding chuckle sounded over the phone. " I haven't heard from you in such a long time. Mom hasn't either! Where have you been?"

"I've been here all this time." On the other side of the city, Nathaniel Prime leant back in his own office chair, grinning, and tapping a randomised rhythm out with a pen on his desk. "I've just been snowed under with work."

"Yeah, sure." Stephanie rolled her eyes, and leant on her desk. "You're always busy with work, you hermit." She accused, and the male laughed quietly.

"It's true. But, as I am busy," He shook his head when he heard a disbelieving snort, "I don't have much time to chat. I called your mobile because I wasn't sure whether you would be at your office, still. I'm here for business."

"Oh, really?" The woman sobered up slightly. "Well, then, Officer, are you here for my business, or for yours?"

"Yours." Nathan reached over his desk, and picked up a large stack of files. "I need your help." Stephanie gave a small, pained smile, unbearably grateful that her friend could not see her, and turned around to pick up a small piece of paper and a pen. Shifting to hold the phone to her shoulder, she put the pen to paper.

"Well, then. Who, when, and why?"


	2. Enter Stage Right

_Right. Um._

_Apologies?_

_I'm really sorry for taking ages to write this. Life sucks. I have a beta, which is awesome (although this chapter is unbeta'd as I wanted to get it up ASAP.) and incredibly helpful. HI GABE! *waves*_

_Anyway, let's get the show on the rather rocky road, starting off with a disclaimer. Don't own Transformers, never will, and this fact makes me very sad. Boo!_

This was pointless.

I have no reason to be here.

I am in perfect health! I'm fine. I am more than eager to return to work, ignore the stares of my colleagues and peers and put this mess behind me. But, no, Nathaniel refused to listen. Yes, I admire the man for several reasons- but his inability to see the truth wasn't one of them.

I sat on the hard, uncomfortable waiting room chair, starting straight at my shoes. I stubbornly refused to make eye contact with anybody. The embarrassment and humiliation of being here is almost too much for the me to handle. I have been waiting here for what seemed like hours- even though I had just checked the time, and it had only been around ten minutes. I have promised himself that if the therapist isn't ready for me in five more minutes, I would leave and return to work. Of course, Nathaniel would not be pleased, but I really, _really_ don't want to be here.

Hopefully, the therapist would be running late, and I will be able to-

"Mr. Jayden?" The secretary called, leaning over her cluttered desk and peering around the waiting area curiously. "Sir?" I looked up from my shoes, my dark eyes narrowed. The secretary's eyes landed on me, and she flushed a light pink.

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't see you there." She gave me a professional, yet cheerful smile. "Miss Amerine will see you now. If you go through this door here, and it's the first on the right." I nodded, and gave a tiny, tight smile in return as I stood.

"Thank you, ma'am." I spoke, and made my way across the nearly empty room. I could feel the girls eyes on me as I passed, no doubt wondering what kind of problem I have, how screwed up in the head I am. My fists clenched, and it took all of my self control to keep walking in steady, determined steps. I stalked straight past the brunette, and entered the hallway.

It was completely abandoned, with multiple doors on both sides. As instructed, I approached the first on my right. After a pause, and debating with myself about whether or not I would be killed if I didn't attend this meeting, I chose to knock loudly and slowly on it three times before opening it and stepping inside quickly.

The first thing I saw was a woman leaning against a oak desk.

Stephanie Amerine was a living, breathing contrast to the idea of a therapist inside my mind. Instead of the fierce, cold eyes I had expected, there was warm, welcoming hazel orbs. Instead of having a serious, no nonsense hairstyle, her blonde hair fell past her shoulders in a somewhat modern style. She had a pale, heart shaped face with sharp features, but they were softened considerably by the smile on her face. She was fairly youthful, perhaps in her late twenties.

The room we stood in was fairly large, and quite a mess. It seemed to be half a office and half a house. I could see a blanket and some pillows were shoved into a corner of the room- this only proved my point. The desk in the centre of the room had a laptop on it, and had stacks of paper alongside it. It also held a few photo frames and pots of pens and pencils. There was also a small, muddy brown coloured sofa on the opposite side of the room, which looked like it had been mercilessly abused for some years, next to some lively looking potted plants, another abused armchair and a glass coffee table with multiple cups and magazines resting on it. I pulled a disgusted face- this woman is too sloppy to be a professional, surely?

While I was analysing the room and the woman's appearance, she had taken a few steps towards me. My eyes flickered once again towards her face- she looked amused.

"Mister Jayden Paige, I presume?" She was grinning, half to herself, but held out a professional hand. I gave a small, stiff nod in affirmation. "Excellent. I'm Stephanie." She informed me as I accepted her hand. As we shook, her own honey coloured eyes swept along my body, doing her own analysis. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Paige." We released hands, and I instinctively crossed my arms tight across my chest. Her eyes lingered on them, something in her eyes flickering- but before I could question it, she gave a short, sharp gesture with her hand, towards the right side of the office where the seats were. "Please, have a seat." I turned to look at the side of the office. I stared at the sofa I had seen earlier uncertainly, unsure whether it was going to try and eat me or do something horrible- yes, it was that badly looked after- but I eventually sat delicately and carefully on the edge of it. I watched Stephanie pick up a clipboard and a pen from her desk, and perch on its corner. "Well. Congratulations."

"For what?" I sneered. "For being classed as a madman and being sent to you?" My companion looked up from her scribbling, blinking in surprise.

"You think that you're seen as a madman…?" She shook her head. "Of course not! You know why you're here- it's the rules. And I can tell by the way you looked at me that you really don't want to be here, so I'm congratulating you for just turning up." She went back to writing. "Some people don't."

"Hmm." I smiled slightly, even though I could quite clearly see why they didn't. "Thanks." The next few moments passed in silence. Occasionally, the woman looked up and gave me the once over, which was quite unsettling, but soon she was finished writing.

"Hi there." She gave a toothy grin. I simply nodded back.

"Hello."

There was silence.

"Okay then." She suddenly rose, jumping up, and swapped the corner of the desk for a chair more closer to me. "Let me run you through why you're here. It's the rules that when a officer on duty witnesses something that maybe seen as…distressing, therapy is made compulsory." She smiled at me. "I'm here to help you. Know that." I stared at her some more, but her smile didn't fade. "Nathaniel, your boss. He's a old family friend of mine. He wouldn't have sent you here if he didn't think I could." She began fiddling with her bracelet. "Now, this meeting won't delve into anything about the incident. We'll ease the information out of you." She looked at me, straight in the eyes. "So. You have a nickname?"

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as she stared me down. Now this is how I expected a real therapist to act. "No. I used to be called Prowl…and a old friend of mine used to call me Prowler."

"Prowl? Prowler?" She arched a blonde eyebrow, smiling in good humour. "What did you do to get that name, dare I ask?"

"I'm fast. I'm quiet." I adverted my eyes, trying to keep my features carefully blank. "That's it really."

"At least your nickname has been explained," Stephanie pulled a face. "My friends still call me Exal." I gave her a confused look.

"Exal? That makes no sense."

"I tried telling them that, but it ended up sticking." Another smile touched her lips, but this was more sweet. I suppose she must have been thinking of old, pleasant memories. "But never mind me. This is about you."

And so, the torture began.

"So, Prowl." Stephanie began as I sipped the water she had given me tentatively. "How was your day? How's work?"

"It was unusually difficult today. We're trying to find a killer of a thirty two year old man." I frowned into my drink at the thought, my mind instantly returning to my investigation. "He had been poisoned, but the investigation is still ongoing. We know little else so far." I scowled, and my voice turned bitter. "I had to also deal with several of my colleagues treating me like a inexperienced child."

She pulled another face, seemingly annoyed. " Your colleagues don't understand what happened. They didn't see what you saw, Prowl." She shook her head. "I imagine they would be saying or doing very different things if they knew. Do you get along with them?"

"Some of them." I told her. "I get along with my boss. Some of the older officers too. But I don't really get along with some of the younger ones. There's a set of twins I know who I can't stand." Her lips twitched.

"Is that Sunny and Sides?" I blinked.

"You know them?"

"Nathan frequently rants about them to me." Stephanie smiled, and took a sip of her own drink. "They are quite…energetic, apparently."

"That's a understatement."

"Do they know why you're here?"

"Yes." I sighed. "Everybody knows why, but they don't understand why Nathaniel is forcing me to attend these. They just think I'm crazy." My grip tightened on my glass.

"How do you feel about attending these sessions yourself?" She watched for my reactions, tilting her head to the side as if that made her think better.

"I don't want to be here. This is ruining my reputation." I also watched her reactions carefully- her facial expressions didn't seem to change, but her eyes flickered with slight annoyance. "I don't need help."

"I will be the judge of that, thank you." Her tone was suddenly less friendly, and icier. "Now, another part of the rules is for me to ask you whether you have any questions for me. If you do, I will answer them to the best of my ability." I looked at her.

"I don't have too many. I would just like this to be over and done with as soon as possible."

"This process takes time, Jayden." I ignored the personal use of my name. "It depends on your development."

"Yes, I've got the lecture from Nathan." I scowled, crossing my arms again. She sighed quietly, placing her drink to one side. There was silence for one moment, in which she watched me quietly and carefully. "Alright, fine. I have a question. What exactly is it that you will be doing to me?"

"Mainly, I'll be chatting with you." Her smile slowly reappeared. "Asking how you are. How your day was. What you think about certain subjects. Stuff like that. And, as you know, out sessions together are an hour long. So we have time."

I said nothing, but she seemed to sense my despair. She shook her head, smiling.

"It's not quite that bad. Can't you just let me do my job, and get it all over and done with?"

"Hmm. I suppose I can do that at least….or I can try." I sighed, not meeting her gaze. She said nothing, but her grin spoke volumes.

"So, then. Any plans for tonight? Meeting with friends?"

"No." I shook my head. "I'm planning to get some work done tonight. I'm very busy tonight."

"When was the last time you went out with friends?"

"I was last disturbed," I pulled a face at the memory. 'by a few of my colleagues a month or two ago." I remembered it clearly. The nightmare was all to real. "I had been dragged away from my office by the Twins, and forced to some….unsuitable places." Stephanie snickered.

"Yes, several others thought it was funny too." I frowned at her as she laughed, unimpressed. She shook her head, still grinning, and made some notes onto her clipboard. She smiled back up at me.

"Well, at least they care about you enough to drag you out. It means that they must worry about your," she paused, probably searching for a good word to use. "Reclusion."

"I like my reclusion." I spoke tersely and to the point.

"I understand that everyone wants and even needs time to be alone, but having that isolation constantly is hardly healthy." She shook her head, and her pen scratched at the paper again. "It could be dangerous, and quite distressing for those who love you."

I snorted. The blonde paused, and looked up at me questioningly. She opened her mouth, ready to shoot out some more quick fire questions, but before she could-

_Briiiiing. _

Her timer rung at a irritating pitch and volume. I instantly leapt up from my seat, and looked down at her. She remained sitting for a moment, her face and eyes expressionless, before she too rose.

"Someone's eager." Stephanie commented, a half smirk on her lips. "If only those emotions could be channelled towards the therapy."

"That'll be a miracle." I spoke honestly.

"This might be a tough job." She snarked, but held out her little hand to me. "Same time next week, Mr Paige." It wasn't a question. More of a demand.

I gave her a fake, sickly smile in return, and accepted her hand smoothly. "Of course, Miss Amerine." She stared directly at me for a moment, analysing my expression, before releasing my hand. "Goodbye, then. Don't be late for our next session."

I turned and hightailed out of there for a week, leaving her to ponder.

The moment I stepped outside into the bright sunshine, I dug into my coat's pockets in search for my mobile. I sidestepped many small, hyperactive children in the streets, and was careful not to trip.

When found it, I flipped it open and instantly went to my speed dial and pressed a few buttons. As it went to my ear, I waited for it to dial.

Eventually, someone picked up.

"Nathaniel Prime." The deep baritone spoke, sounding amused. "I do actually check my caller ID, you know." I narrowed my eyes, even though I knew he couldn't see me.

"Well done." I showed my delightfully sarcastic side to one of the only people who knew it existed. "You should be called a genius and we should raise a statue in your honour."

"I know, I should, but others don't seem to agree." He laughed, used to my antics. "Anyway. I have been expecting this call and preparing myself for a massive rant about your session." He paused. "I'm ready, fire away."

I began immediately, loud and unrelenting. "Is she _even _a professional? Therapists aren't as patronizing and sarcastic as her, are they? It must be a joke. Tell me she isn't one."

"Sorry. She is." He spoke apologetically. "She uses special techniques, though. She's very….unique like that."

"Unique? I think she's insane."

"Yes, quite a few people have said that to me over the years. They're right, too."

"Do I have to go next week?" I near whined.

"Yes." He placed a heavy emphasis on all his words. "You need to go. This situation needs to be resolved, and she can help you."

"I don't need help. I'm perfectly fine and I can sort it out on my own."

"No, Prowl. You need help, and you need it now. You're attending next week, and that is final." I growled, angry at being commanded, but snarled out one more sentence before abruptly hanging up.

"Yes, _sir."_

_Right, so that's that! This chapter was meant to have another part, but that will be released as the next chapter or skipped entirely. I apologise about the rushed, messy condition of the chapter, by the way. I hope Prowl and Optimus are in character and Exal isn't overly annoying! _


End file.
